


Glass Bead Game:  Naming of Parts

by JaguarMirror



Series: Glass Bead Universe [7]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anduin has Ideas (eeek!), Flynn Has To Learn Royal Manners, Gen, Humor, Mathias has to learn to dance, Plots abound!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaguarMirror/pseuds/JaguarMirror
Summary: Isenstrider's ball is coming up soon and Shaw and Fairwind are to represent the crown.  Anduin decides to teach them court etiquette, including which fork to use if you simplymuststab someone.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: Glass Bead Universe [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916869
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	Glass Bead Game:  Naming of Parts

**Author's Note:**

> _Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,  
>  We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,  
> We shall have what to do after firing. But today,  
> Today we have naming of parts. Japonica  
> Glistens like coral in all the neighboring gardens,  
> And today we have naming of parts. _
> 
> \---- Henry Reed
> 
> https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/naming-of-parts/

**PROLOGUE**

Mathias Shaw had learned to estimate periods of time, down to the exact second. He knew, for example, that it had been thirteen minutes and eight seconds since he entered the king’s private suite in Stormwind Keep and that it was precisely twenty three days, six hours, and seventeen minutes until he and Flynn had to present themselves at Selkirk Isenstrider's Hallows End ball. 

The ball was something he worried about in the back of his mind ever since the subject first came up. He had hoped that his duties would involve simply riding up to the estate, delivering a cask of wine with the king’s compliments, and then riding off. Instead it turned into his worst social nightmare -- he had been invited to dinner by Isenstrider since he was representing the king and would be provided with a guest room and of course should bring “the delightful Captain Fairwind that we’ve heard so much about.”

One misstep by either of them would reflect badly on the king. 

So he had Flynn borrow the few books on protocol that the library had and they went over them together, but he still had the haunting feeling that he was missing far too many nuances. Sneaking into buildings and taking some important documents did not prepare you for actually holding a conversation with anyone.

Mathias shifted his weight as Anduin seated himself on the corner of his desk and eyed the Spymaster. "What do you mean - you don't know how to dance?" 

"I don’t. Dancing is not something you learn to do as a spy." 

"Just... reading, writing, and stabbing?"

"Pretty much."

Anduin smirked. "Oh let me guess-- when you were in a situation where you had to dance, you used the rogue’s vanishing spell, right?"

"I... ah... trade secrets, your Majesty."

Anduin folded his arms. "How very handy. However, this time you’re not going to be able to disappear, Shaw. I can see that we're going to have a lot of work to do."

Those were the sort of words that made one's blood run cold. In Mathias’ experience, any time a ruler said that 'we have a lot of work to do', it translated into 'I am going to order you to do something that's going to be a lot of work and little reward for some obscure purpose.' Any time that High King Andun Wrynn said something like this, it translated to 'more weird trouble than you can possibly imagine' -- and that was on a good day, of course. On a bad day, you got Marcus the Paladin or worse. 

Mathias rolled a selection of words over in his mind and finally chose the least provocative. "Marvelous."

"Oh, relax, Shaw. I'm not going to make you learn anything complicated. The pavane is nice and slow and has only five steps. I'm sure you'll have it down in no time at all. And table manners for a formal dinner are relatively simple once you get the basics down. I'll teach you both. It'll be fun." Anduin poured a little more wine into his cup and took a sip.

"Fun for who?"

"Ah, Shaw, that's a very good question. I'll see you both tomorrow night."

It was a command performance and there was no escaping. And it was precisely twenty three days and six hours before the Hallows Night ball.

**SCENE 2 TODAY WE HAVE NAMING OF PARTS**

The dining table in the king’s suite was set for a formal dinner for four people, complete with decorations and a sideboard full of mysterious food service items that could have held anything from Spider Surprise to actual spiders. Two of the palace servants stood nearby, dressed in outfits that Mathias mentally labeled ‘palace casual’ -- not the hot, froggy, woolen outfits for formal court but lighter linens of Stormwind blue. Anduin escorted his personal spy, Valeera Sanguinar, to a chair to his left and announced, “At a formal dinner, you wait until the host sits before you sit, and you wait to eat until they start eating. Once they finish eating, you stop.” 

“A man could starve,” Flynn grumbled.

Anduin smiled and seated himself at the head of the table and gestured for the others to sit. “That’s why you eat a small meal beforehand. And have a small glass of water -- but not too much, since you can’t leave before the host leaves.” He unfolded his napkin and took a sip of water.

Flynn seated himself gingerly and stared at the array of silverware in horror. Mathias felt a twinge of sympathy. The place settings looked like a lineup of weapons for a very extended jousting match, the points of the fork tines glittering menacingly in the candlelight. 

“Let’s start with the silverware.” Anduin held up the smallest, outermost fork. "This one is the proper fork for hors de combat over the hors d'oeuvres."

Mathias waved a hand. “You’re going about it all wrong, Wrynn. Let me explain.” He held up one of the forks and waved it at the others. “This is the one you use for meat. It’s the biggest one there.”

Flynn picked it up and examined it. “Right. Big one for meat.”

Mathias selected the next fork. “This one for green stuff. This one for dessert. And THIS is the fork you use for stabbing combat over the olives"

Flynn eyed him skeptically. “Right. Because I'll totally fight to the death over an olive."

"You might find that a grim necessity after you've tasted the lamb kablam."

“Do I want to know about lamb kablam?”

“No,” they all said simultaneously.

And it was twenty two days, twenty two hours, and forty three minutes before the Hallows Night ball.

**SCENE 3: LOWER SLING SWIVEL**

“We need to have a discussion about roles,” Anduin said as he stood beside the sideboard and poured a cup of coffee. “Now, I presume you’ll want to dance with each other instead of some random partner. So -- in these formal court dances, there are two lines; the right and the left. Traditionally the man takes the left-hand side and the lady the right.”

“Not it.” Flynn said quickly.

“Not me.” Valeera Sanguinar’s voice sounded faintly through the window. She slid into the room with her usual silent grace.

Eyes turned toward Anduin. “I’m the dancing master,” he said suavely. “I don’t prance around in skirts. I sit to one side and make you practice until you’re adequate at the dance steps. Besides, I’m not going to be at the event, so you can’t pretend like I’ll be your partner.”

Mathias scowled. “You’re enjoying this one entirely too much, Wrynn.”

“Possibly,” he purred. “In any case, the senior member of the dancing pair or the one with the highest status takes the position on the left. You can fight about it amongst yourselves. Preferably not where it will involve my carpets.”

“Ha! Beer mugs at 20 paces!” Flynn grinned.

Mathias folded his arms and smirked. “And waste all that beer? You’d never do that.”

“Okay… lamb keblam at 20 paces -- whatever that is!”

Mathias turned back toward Anduin. “Better hide the explosives. And the peppers.”

“Duel on your own carpets, Shaw. Not mine. Meanwhile, the subject of the evening was dancing and I do have a demonstration of what the dance should look like.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Cadet Rall, please come in.”

A stocky, dark-haired teenager dressed in Stormwind blue tunic and pants entered and bowed shyly. “Your Majesty.”

He made a gesture like a falconer summoning a bird to his hand and after a brief hesitation she put her fingertips on his closed fist and smiled nervously. She didn’t bolt, though the expression on her face suggested that she was thinking about it. Anduin smiled gently at her as he led her back toward his friends. “This is Cadet Rall, one of my court pages. She has been going through all the very tedious protocol drills for court pages this month, including dancing. She kindly agreed to help me demonstrate the dance steps for the basic pavane, and hopefully will cover for me if I trip or make some sort of ghastly mistake.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. He grinned and shook his head. “Sorry. I meant that to be funny. As you can see, I’d make a terrible court jester.” 

“That’s why you’re king, blondie,” Valeera said sarcastically. “You’re absolutely terrible at everything else. In fact, remembering the last time that you tried to do one of those fancy steps and count tempo at the same time, I’ll do the beat.” She began tapping a rhythm on the table with one of the clean spoons.

“My adoring audience.” Anduin turned and bowed to the page, who curtseyed. 

He turned back to the audience, sweeping one foot behind him in a graceful arc. “So we begin with... step, pause, step, pause, step, pause, step-step-step, pause, back, pause, back, pause, back-back-back, pause, quarter turn, swing step right, swing step left, swing step right, exchange places.” His movements were graceful and smooth. As he counted and moved through the paces, the cadet began to relax enough to return his smiles and the stiffness in her posture eased. They finished the dance with a flourish and a bow and Anduin looked back at the others with a bright smile.

Mathias and Flynn were staring at him with a fish-in-the-submarine-headlights gaze. 

Flynn turned to Mathias. “Do you know anyone who breaks legs?” he said in his most sincere voice. “Asking for a friend.”

“I’ll check with Renzik. He might be able to arrange a ‘two for the price of one’ deal.”

Anduin turned to his page with a sigh. “Thank you, Cadet Rall. You may go. This… is going to take a while.”

And it was twenty days, twenty hours, and twenty three minutes before the Hallows Night ball.

**SCENE 4: THE SAFETY CATCH**

Between the formal dancing and reception lines, the program for the upcoming party sounded more like an extensive torture session than anything someone would do for fun. Mathias could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his jaw that Flynn was about to rebel over the issue of memorizing formal titles. Anduin was a kind but firm taskmaster, but Flynn was beginning to feel overloaded by the rules. It was time for a distraction.

He ran his fingers down the bridge of Flynn’s nose and handed his love a cup of wine. “If you’re going to stab them, sweetling, you have to stab them in the correct order.

“No freeform stabby-stabby with the available dinnerware?” The corners of Flynn’s mouth twitched upward into a smile.

“No. If you’re going to stab Isenstrider and the rest, you have to do it in the right order and with the correct knife. Otherwise the Earl Marshall of the College of Arms will come after you and make you redo all the genealogies.”

Flynn made a face. “Really? How long will that take? I mean, if I stab two or three out of order and do a little improvisation with a fork instead.”

“Forks are so low class. I’m sure they’d add extra time for that. They’ll probably lock you away with ink and quills and copybooks for decades.”

“Might be worth it.”

Anduin cocked his head, his eyes brightening. “You know, now that he puts it that way, it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”

Flynn nodded vigorously. “In fact, it would remove a lot of messy protocols so you don’t have to remember all that stuff. Just a few ‘milords' and ‘miladys' and you’re done. Make the reception line a lot shorter, too, so there’d still be booze left after you greeted them all.” King and Captain clinked glasses together in an informal toast and turned back to grin at the others.

Valeera rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We can’t take them anywhere, Shaw.”

And it was fifteen days and twenty minutes before the Hallows Night ball.

**SCENE 5: EASING THE SPRING**

It was midnight, and four days before the Hallows Night ball. Stormwind Keep was mostly quiet except for the distant sound of boots on stone as a guard made the rounds. The servants had banked the fires in the study and the bedroom and cleared out dishes and the detritus of the day. Anduin was about to unbutton his shirt when he felt the subtle shift of the air in the room that signaled his personal spy had entered through the window. 

“I feel like I should hang up a sign saying ‘everyone welcome -- any time.’ I think I have less privacy than anyone else in the kingdom,” he said to the silence.

“Your Majesty certainly is cranky,” Valeera said sardonically. 

“My Majesty is bone-achingly tired. So’s the rest of me.”

She picked up his wine cup and finished off the last of the wine. “I’d have thought that you would be feeling rather smug after tonight’s dress rehearsal. Shaw and Fairwind are absolutely stunning in their new court dress, and their manners are flawless. Isenstrider's little game to embarrass you is going to fall apart gloriously.”

“They are a handsome couple,” he said with a smile, “and Fairwind’s charm is going to disrupt everything. I thought my poor little cadet was going to faint when he bowed over her hand and kissed her fingers. But if you came to do a review of tonight’s event, please save it for another time. I’m very tired, Valeera. More tired than you can possibly imagine.”

“Actually, that’s why I came.” She presented him with a small flask. “Cocoa and comfort.”

“Just like when I was little.” He cradled the bottle in his palms. “Same flask, too.” 

“The others didn’t catch it, but I saw the way your face changed just briefly when your cadet mentioned refugees. Let’s talk. Show me what’s happening that’s got you worried.” She gestured toward his gaming table, flat and empty at the moment.

He looked at her, blank-eyed with exhaustion and then shrugged. “Two minutes.” His voice was raspy with fatigue. “Two minutes and then you leave and I go to bed. Me and this cocoa and the stupidest romance novel I can find. I desperately want a happy ending right now.” He pressed a hidden toggle and the board appeared, glittering with webs of light.

“Stormwind has been overrun with refugees since the fall of Teldrassil.” He touched one edge of the board and where there had been a tidy spiderwebbing of lines, a chaotic network of connections began overlaying the neat squares. The green there are the kaldorei, yellow are worgen, blue is Stormwind.” 

He set three gaming pieces on the board. “And here’s Genn and Mia and Tyrande. As you see, they are the centers for their people.” The lines resolved into orderly patterns. “And here’s me.” More order, overlapping lines.

“When Tyrande and Malfurion and Shandris left to hunt Sylvanis, I accepted it as their decision. What I didn’t realize is that it left all the kaldorei in Stormwind completely leaderless. They turned to Genn and Mia… and Genn left and now the worgen and kaldorei have no leader. Mia is… simply not there. Aysa Cloudsinger was the only one who went to the refugee camp to see what could be done.” He removed the pieces that represented the leaders and she watched the lines shatter and reform, centering around the tall spired piece that she knew represented the king.

The colors shifted to an angry-looking red. “Everyone’s looking to me for answers and we’ve got situations that have the potential to turn into riots if I put the wrong person in the wrong place.” He set a piece on the board and the darker lines ran red like old blood. “That’s Erlgaden, who doesn’t want anything to do with administration but who’s seen as a useful pawn if he steps up.”

“Shaw and Fairwind will block Isenstrider for right now…” he set their two pieces near a corner where the threaded lines were bright red and the lines reformed and turned a neutral white. “The rest of it… so many issues, so much anger, so much grief. There’s no one, no matter how kind and brilliant and loved, that I can put in any spot in Stormwind to relieve the pressure. It’ll take dozens of people -- the right people -- and months to get things calmed down again but for right now, the least little thing can set Stormwind off on an internal war that will spill over into Elwynn and the rest of our territories.”

He slumped, bracing his hands on the board. “Here’s the real horror,” he said and touched a different button. The layout of the game board changed into a map of Stormwind City. Now the lines seemed to cluster everywhere and broad streaks of red ran through the major streets. “There are so many points in Stormwind where things can turn violent in a matter of seconds. I can’t even figure out where to place the guards. And I am so tired. 

“So very tired.”

He felt her palm against his hair, stroking his head as she’d done when he was little and frightened. “My poor lion,” she said softly. After a long moment, he leaned his head into her palm. “I can’t fix it for you. All I can do is bring you a flask of cocoa, a potion to help you sleep, and a ‘Steamy Romance Novel’ that will probably corrupt your innocent young mind.”

He grinned at that and closed his eyes, allowing himself the luxury of leaning further into her touch for a moment’s comfort. “If you were a cat, you’d be purring,” she laughed and poked him as she handed him the flask of cocoa and a small vial and a very well-thumbed book with a smudged cover. “Go to bed. I’ll keep watch. In the morning I’ll start hunting hot spots so you can have better information.” 

“Thank you.”

“There aren’t any good answers for this mess, are there?”

He turned toward the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt. “No. But for right now, and in this time and place -- ” he half turned, seeing her profile etched with candlelight, “I have you and Shaw and Fairwind and Cloudsinger and that’s enough of a start. And I also have cocoa and a wonderfully silly novel and something to help me sleep, and that will be sufficient for right now.” 

And he closed the door and Stormwind Keep was silent again except for the distant sound of the guards’ footsteps and the echo of the night winds.


End file.
